I never had anything against Pamela Anderson until thirty seconds ago. That is when I found out that she calls her breasts Poncho and Lefty.
Have some fucking respect, man.
Next thing you know, Lindsey Lohan will be calling her cooch "Solsbury Hill."
28 February 2007
21 February 2007
90-81
90. I like Erasure an awful lot. I can't explain it. I know, intellectually, that they aren't that great. Maybe it's because they're just so darn happy. I can't get enough of that bubbly, saccharine, synth-pop, though.
89. I secretly dream of being the assistant to someone important. Like Creon, I don't want to be the big cahoona myself. I just have this fantasy image of of walking very quickly through the rotunda of some official building with a flurry of aids, talking fast and handing folders to someone on his way to a very important meeting. I am wearing a perfectly tailored skirt suit and tasteful, comfortable, yet fashionable shoes that click click on the marble floor.
88. On the other hand, teaching high school utilizes all my best skills: speaking in front of people, acting, reading, using metaphors, being alternately terrifying and endearingly dorky, and relating things that don't seem like they go together. And I can wear suits if I really want to.
87. My entire day can be turned around by a particularly nice shade of blue or green.
86. All stages and auditoriums have a common smell. I really, really, really love that smell and have for as long as I can remember. I'm a lot more comfortable on stage than I am in real life.
85. I'm also a lot more comfortable in writing than talking.
84. A lot of people hate standardized tests because they make them seem less intelligent than they really are. I hate them for that reason, but also because they always made me seem smarter than I really am. I'm not dumb by any means, but I'm not as smart as the tests make me seem. Instead of being smart about the stuff I'm being tested over, I'm actually just kind of extraordinary at pattern recognition--I don't understand it myself sometimes. I just have this standardized test 6th sense. In real life, I have the memory of a goldfish and can't even balance the checkbook.
83. Singing in the car helps me keep from getting car sick. The louder I sing, the less likely I am to puke. Unfortunately, I sing so badly that my own mother used to tell me to quit singing as a child. If that doesn't convince you, even Mad Scientist admits my voice is awful. Yet, given one second alone, I'm belting things out like Bette Middler.
82. I think merlot tastes kind of like butter.
81. My chapstick addiction is such that my lips have not produced their own moisture since I was 14 years old.
89. I secretly dream of being the assistant to someone important. Like Creon, I don't want to be the big cahoona myself. I just have this fantasy image of of walking very quickly through the rotunda of some official building with a flurry of aids, talking fast and handing folders to someone on his way to a very important meeting. I am wearing a perfectly tailored skirt suit and tasteful, comfortable, yet fashionable shoes that click click on the marble floor.
88. On the other hand, teaching high school utilizes all my best skills: speaking in front of people, acting, reading, using metaphors, being alternately terrifying and endearingly dorky, and relating things that don't seem like they go together. And I can wear suits if I really want to.
87. My entire day can be turned around by a particularly nice shade of blue or green.
86. All stages and auditoriums have a common smell. I really, really, really love that smell and have for as long as I can remember. I'm a lot more comfortable on stage than I am in real life.
85. I'm also a lot more comfortable in writing than talking.
84. A lot of people hate standardized tests because they make them seem less intelligent than they really are. I hate them for that reason, but also because they always made me seem smarter than I really am. I'm not dumb by any means, but I'm not as smart as the tests make me seem. Instead of being smart about the stuff I'm being tested over, I'm actually just kind of extraordinary at pattern recognition--I don't understand it myself sometimes. I just have this standardized test 6th sense. In real life, I have the memory of a goldfish and can't even balance the checkbook.
83. Singing in the car helps me keep from getting car sick. The louder I sing, the less likely I am to puke. Unfortunately, I sing so badly that my own mother used to tell me to quit singing as a child. If that doesn't convince you, even Mad Scientist admits my voice is awful. Yet, given one second alone, I'm belting things out like Bette Middler.
82. I think merlot tastes kind of like butter.
81. My chapstick addiction is such that my lips have not produced their own moisture since I was 14 years old.
17 February 2007
100 Things in Solitude
Hi, bandwagon. Got room for one more? Why? I dunno. Feeling reflective, I guess...
100. I put jam on ham and cheese sandwiches and ice in milk. Ironically, I will absolutely not eat any food that is touching another, unacceptable food.
99. My mom is a nurse, and as a child, she was at work for the majority of my waking hours. When I got to see her, it was generally while she was at work. Sometimes, she would even take me to work with her for a few hours. I would hang out in the nurse's station or the conference room, or play with the rehab toys. When we needed good ice, that's where we went. Before we had a storm shelter, that's where we went. And because my dad is kind of a clumsy oaf cum handyman, many Saturdays, that's where we went. A very strange consequence of this is that I find the smell and sight of hospitals homey and comforting. They don't bother or scare me at all. Nurses are nice ladies and rubbing alcohol is good because it keeps stuff clean--
98. Which is good, because I'm terrified of germs. While I am comfortable in a hospital, I've never been able to eat or drink in one, unless it was in Mom's office or the conference room, and this is only after some hard core hand washing. I'm the same way about any public place and school.
97. I spent the time from ages seven to eighteen 100% convinced I was going to be a doctor. I went to camps, took lots of science, etc. etc. etc. Then one day, I watched this lady die in Wal-Mart. I wanted no part of that mess. It was at this same time that I admitted that the combination of not liking people, getting dizzy at the sight of blood, a complete inability to do basic arithmetic, and #98 would very likely make me the most miserable doctor ever. Also, I rocked at English and everyone who ever met me told me I needed to major in it. But (and this may shock MS), I'm kind of stubborn. But not stupid.
96. MS and my late grandfather may very well be the only people I've ever know who I liked more than the dog I owned at the time. This is not a slight toward people I know--I'm actually pretty attachable. It's more of an admission of how I feel about my dogs. Things are just easier with them.
95. A lot of people really look up to their dads. I'm one of those people, but with a twist. Most people admire their dads for their saintly qualities. I admire mine because he used to be a racist, a sexist, and many other undesirable -ists. But then one day, and this had nothing to do with religion--he's agnostic, he changed. Not because of anything other than realizing that it was the right thing to do. Now he's one of the most open, accepting, kind people I've ever met. If he'd always been like that, I'd appreciate him, but seeing him admit that he's wrong and change his life around makes me really, really look up to him.
94. I can never remember which grey/gray is American and which is British. "Gray" looks wrong, so I usually use the one with an E. Also, "color" and "theater" look wrong. This is not an affectation to be pretentious, but because I grew up reading British children's books, then segued into British literature. I still catch myself using words like "rather" in common speech--which sounds extra funny because I have a bit of a Southern accent.
93. My favorite thing about my sister is that her speech is so accented that it is nearly impossible to understand to outsiders, but her writing is perfect.
92. I also have an older sister whom very few people know about.
91. The sound typing makes is really cool if I'm making it or it's on TV, but kind of annoying when it's someone else.
100. I put jam on ham and cheese sandwiches and ice in milk. Ironically, I will absolutely not eat any food that is touching another, unacceptable food.
99. My mom is a nurse, and as a child, she was at work for the majority of my waking hours. When I got to see her, it was generally while she was at work. Sometimes, she would even take me to work with her for a few hours. I would hang out in the nurse's station or the conference room, or play with the rehab toys. When we needed good ice, that's where we went. Before we had a storm shelter, that's where we went. And because my dad is kind of a clumsy oaf cum handyman, many Saturdays, that's where we went. A very strange consequence of this is that I find the smell and sight of hospitals homey and comforting. They don't bother or scare me at all. Nurses are nice ladies and rubbing alcohol is good because it keeps stuff clean--
98. Which is good, because I'm terrified of germs. While I am comfortable in a hospital, I've never been able to eat or drink in one, unless it was in Mom's office or the conference room, and this is only after some hard core hand washing. I'm the same way about any public place and school.
97. I spent the time from ages seven to eighteen 100% convinced I was going to be a doctor. I went to camps, took lots of science, etc. etc. etc. Then one day, I watched this lady die in Wal-Mart. I wanted no part of that mess. It was at this same time that I admitted that the combination of not liking people, getting dizzy at the sight of blood, a complete inability to do basic arithmetic, and #98 would very likely make me the most miserable doctor ever. Also, I rocked at English and everyone who ever met me told me I needed to major in it. But (and this may shock MS), I'm kind of stubborn. But not stupid.
96. MS and my late grandfather may very well be the only people I've ever know who I liked more than the dog I owned at the time. This is not a slight toward people I know--I'm actually pretty attachable. It's more of an admission of how I feel about my dogs. Things are just easier with them.
95. A lot of people really look up to their dads. I'm one of those people, but with a twist. Most people admire their dads for their saintly qualities. I admire mine because he used to be a racist, a sexist, and many other undesirable -ists. But then one day, and this had nothing to do with religion--he's agnostic, he changed. Not because of anything other than realizing that it was the right thing to do. Now he's one of the most open, accepting, kind people I've ever met. If he'd always been like that, I'd appreciate him, but seeing him admit that he's wrong and change his life around makes me really, really look up to him.
94. I can never remember which grey/gray is American and which is British. "Gray" looks wrong, so I usually use the one with an E. Also, "color" and "theater" look wrong. This is not an affectation to be pretentious, but because I grew up reading British children's books, then segued into British literature. I still catch myself using words like "rather" in common speech--which sounds extra funny because I have a bit of a Southern accent.
93. My favorite thing about my sister is that her speech is so accented that it is nearly impossible to understand to outsiders, but her writing is perfect.
92. I also have an older sister whom very few people know about.
91. The sound typing makes is really cool if I'm making it or it's on TV, but kind of annoying when it's someone else.
13 February 2007
You Can Take the Girl Out of the Bible Belt...
TV News: over 13 million honey bees are missing, and no one knows why!
MY INSTANTANEOUS THOUGHT: Ah. Bee rapture.
MY INSTANTANEOUS THOUGHT: Ah. Bee rapture.
11 February 2007
I Can't Let It Go
Seriously, people, THE POOL CAUGHT ON FIRE. Does that not strike anyone as hilarious as it does me?
08 February 2007
You Aren't Paranoid if They're Really Out to Get You
Well, it's lovely to be missed, even if it is just for one's tiny cat owning ability. The truth is, it isn't Microblocks that has caused my mysterious disappearance. Actually, I've been kidnapped by Joseph Heller and Ken Kesey and forced to live out one of their novels. The novel is called "I Teach Public School and It Sucks." This environment has sapped my will to blog, socialize, and..well...live. I'm not going through a laundry list of exactly what is wrong. I mean, everyone knows teachers have a shitty job. Just imagine how shitty you think it is and multiply it by about 100. Then shift that horror from a class full of hoodlums with guns and attitudes (they aren't) to the people that are actually in charge of running the place. So without troubling you with the gory details of the past few months, let me just give you a timeline of today. Just today, people!
The following events are true. Names have been omitted to protect the idiots.
8:00--arrive, later than usual because I have my long planning period today (I didn't get one yesterday). We don't start getting paid until 8:15, but it's kind of unspoken that you get there by at least 7:45. Many teacher arrive before 7:00.
8:35--called to the office. The state messed up some paperwork with my teaching certificate. I have to drive to OKC tomorrow, pay $10 for the certificate they lost, $10 for a new one, gas there and back and---get this---I am not even shitting you---the pay for the substitute who will be watching my class will be docked from my check. Because the state fucked up.
9:00-10:30--spend my entire planning period rearranging everything for tomorrow and next week to accommodate being gone tomorrow. Students come in smiling and do brilliant presentations over torture methods used in the Salem Witch trials and McCarthyism
11:00--Phone call from the office. Too many teachers are out sick. I need to cancel my trip tomorrow.
11:15--Memo from the office. Too many teachers are catching the flu. This is unacceptable. We need to be responsible and wash our hands. If we're getting sick, it's our own fault. We should be using our planning periods for getting our work done and not screwing around. Surely if we did that, we could get everything done in our 45 minutes a day and then get enough rest and therefore not get sick.
11:45--Find out from the other union delegate that at the union meeting yesterday (which I had to miss for a pre-meeting before a parent meeting) that if we ever want to leave before 3:45, when our contract hours end, we must get written permission from an administrator, no matter what the reason. School lets out at 3:20. Few teachers leave before 4:00 on a normal day. We are not allowed to make up hours by coming in early (we always do) or staying late (we usually do). Any time we are not in the building between 3:20 and 3:45 will be taken out of our checks. Also, due to snow, we will most likely be holding parent/teacher conferences on a Saturday. This means we will work all day that Friday, have conferences until 8:00 that night, then come in at 7:45 Saturday morning for more conferences.
12:35--Students come in, read an Orwell essay, make brilliant, insightful comments on the allegories for imperialism. Re-re-plan the next week.
1:45--Call from the office. I need to go to OKC Monday. I tell them I can't because I have a meeting with the principal and a parent (a completely insane parent, I might add, but that's another story). They tell me I can come in for the meeting then go to OKC from there. I make up some shit about how Tuesday would be better, not wanting to be paying someone else to do my job while I am currently at work, which is what would happen if I came in for the meeting on the day I go to OKC. They get pissy but comply. Re-re-re plan next week.
2:25--Students discussing Orwell saddened by the end of class.
2:30--Students come in to watch a video of Oedipus the king. It is lame. They crack intelligent, funny jokes, but talk about how cool it is to see the differences between then and now.
3:20--Final bell. Three different students come in asking for help on homework and papers.
3:30--Call from the office. Student pokes his head in for help, but ducks out when I am on the phone. A student whose phone I confiscated for going off in class (as per school policy) wants to pick up her phone, but I haven't brought it down yet. I say I'll bring it when I leave. They ask me if I'll be leaving in the next five minutes. I tell them I don't have permission. They ask the student to wait. She yells for a while then agrees.
3:45--Realize I could go, but do a crossword puzzle out of spite.
3:58--Take phone downstairs. Office isn't supposed to close until four, but they usually leave well before that. Phone kid holds the secretary up. I finally get to go home.
Total time worked unpaid today: 44 minutes
Amount of money asked to spend on clerical error made by the state: $140
Classes interrupted for more than two minutes by office stuff: all of them
Students discouraged from seeking my help by office calls: 3
Viruses I have intentionally caught in my life: 0
Boxes of Kleenex provided by the school after mandating that all classrooms have Kleenex: 0
Gallons of hand sanitizer provided by the school after mandating that all classrooms have hand sanitizer: 0
And then there was the day the pool caught on fire but we weren't allowed to leave the building until the principal could visually confirm the fire (she was not on campus at the time), and then there was the day there was a chemical leak that was never explained, and then there was the day we got yelled at for not confiscating the cell phones of kids who called their parents during yesterday's intruder on campus alert (real, not a drill)...
Anyway. This is why I have disappeared. I'm no fun. I'm a mess. Nobody wants to hear about this shit. Someday it will be June.
The following events are true. Names have been omitted to protect the idiots.
8:00--arrive, later than usual because I have my long planning period today (I didn't get one yesterday). We don't start getting paid until 8:15, but it's kind of unspoken that you get there by at least 7:45. Many teacher arrive before 7:00.
8:35--called to the office. The state messed up some paperwork with my teaching certificate. I have to drive to OKC tomorrow, pay $10 for the certificate they lost, $10 for a new one, gas there and back and---get this---I am not even shitting you---the pay for the substitute who will be watching my class will be docked from my check. Because the state fucked up.
9:00-10:30--spend my entire planning period rearranging everything for tomorrow and next week to accommodate being gone tomorrow. Students come in smiling and do brilliant presentations over torture methods used in the Salem Witch trials and McCarthyism
11:00--Phone call from the office. Too many teachers are out sick. I need to cancel my trip tomorrow.
11:15--Memo from the office. Too many teachers are catching the flu. This is unacceptable. We need to be responsible and wash our hands. If we're getting sick, it's our own fault. We should be using our planning periods for getting our work done and not screwing around. Surely if we did that, we could get everything done in our 45 minutes a day and then get enough rest and therefore not get sick.
11:45--Find out from the other union delegate that at the union meeting yesterday (which I had to miss for a pre-meeting before a parent meeting) that if we ever want to leave before 3:45, when our contract hours end, we must get written permission from an administrator, no matter what the reason. School lets out at 3:20. Few teachers leave before 4:00 on a normal day. We are not allowed to make up hours by coming in early (we always do) or staying late (we usually do). Any time we are not in the building between 3:20 and 3:45 will be taken out of our checks. Also, due to snow, we will most likely be holding parent/teacher conferences on a Saturday. This means we will work all day that Friday, have conferences until 8:00 that night, then come in at 7:45 Saturday morning for more conferences.
12:35--Students come in, read an Orwell essay, make brilliant, insightful comments on the allegories for imperialism. Re-re-plan the next week.
1:45--Call from the office. I need to go to OKC Monday. I tell them I can't because I have a meeting with the principal and a parent (a completely insane parent, I might add, but that's another story). They tell me I can come in for the meeting then go to OKC from there. I make up some shit about how Tuesday would be better, not wanting to be paying someone else to do my job while I am currently at work, which is what would happen if I came in for the meeting on the day I go to OKC. They get pissy but comply. Re-re-re plan next week.
2:25--Students discussing Orwell saddened by the end of class.
2:30--Students come in to watch a video of Oedipus the king. It is lame. They crack intelligent, funny jokes, but talk about how cool it is to see the differences between then and now.
3:20--Final bell. Three different students come in asking for help on homework and papers.
3:30--Call from the office. Student pokes his head in for help, but ducks out when I am on the phone. A student whose phone I confiscated for going off in class (as per school policy) wants to pick up her phone, but I haven't brought it down yet. I say I'll bring it when I leave. They ask me if I'll be leaving in the next five minutes. I tell them I don't have permission. They ask the student to wait. She yells for a while then agrees.
3:45--Realize I could go, but do a crossword puzzle out of spite.
3:58--Take phone downstairs. Office isn't supposed to close until four, but they usually leave well before that. Phone kid holds the secretary up. I finally get to go home.
Total time worked unpaid today: 44 minutes
Amount of money asked to spend on clerical error made by the state: $140
Classes interrupted for more than two minutes by office stuff: all of them
Students discouraged from seeking my help by office calls: 3
Viruses I have intentionally caught in my life: 0
Boxes of Kleenex provided by the school after mandating that all classrooms have Kleenex: 0
Gallons of hand sanitizer provided by the school after mandating that all classrooms have hand sanitizer: 0
And then there was the day the pool caught on fire but we weren't allowed to leave the building until the principal could visually confirm the fire (she was not on campus at the time), and then there was the day there was a chemical leak that was never explained, and then there was the day we got yelled at for not confiscating the cell phones of kids who called their parents during yesterday's intruder on campus alert (real, not a drill)...
Anyway. This is why I have disappeared. I'm no fun. I'm a mess. Nobody wants to hear about this shit. Someday it will be June.
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